


Eyes On Me

by Anonymous



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Oblivious Iwaizumi Hajime, idk they just have good boy energy, iwa and ushiwaka become friends, oikawa once again feels threatened, seijoh and shiratorizawa training camp, would iwa and ushi be an alliance of himbos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:55:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28310085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: A shared training camp between Shiratorizawa and Aoba Johsai is a recipe for trouble. What the two teams don't realize is that an unlikely friendship between their two aces is about to change everything.And clearly, Oikawa is not pleased.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 68
Kudos: 163
Collections: anonymous





	1. A Chance Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> in this household i believe in oblivious and cute iwa chan supremacy. just a wholesome ace who likes to play volleyball and deal with idiots on a daily basis. i swear the boy could breathe and oikawa and ushiwaka would fall at his feet

Training camps are always fun, Iwaizumi thinks, considering it’s a chance to do nothing but play volleyball all day long and hone his skills without any distractions. Even with an entire day of training and conditioning making his arms and legs ache with each and every step, there’s just something about the sport that makes him feel like he still has energy even if he’s dead tired. 

He’s already on his twentieth jump serve, ignoring the fact that it’s almost nightfall in the empty gym, stray volleyballs scattered on the other end of the court. If anyone asks where he is, he’ll just say he was making sure Oikawa wasn’t secretly practicing and putting unnecessary pressure on his already weak knee. 

Maybe it’s a little bit hypocritical of him to be here, acting like Oikawa as he attempts to get better after being intimidated by the thought rivals being the only ones to improve. It was quite obvious from today’s matches that Aoba Johsai is carried by Oikawa, the stupid idiot. Iwaizumi can’t help but feel a conflicting mix of pride and shame at that thought. 

On one hand, he’s so damn proud of his childhood friend for being able to overcome all of the odds thrown his way and become one of the best (though he’ll never forget all that the taller has sacrificed to even get where he is now). But it also calls into question his own skills as an ace and a vice captain. 

It doesn’t sit well with him to know that the team’s offense depends on Oikawa’s choices and insight, when more of the responsibility should be placed on him as the ace in order to break through the defense with an unwavering strike.

And in the end though, the only thing that really matters is practice of course, which is why he’s here in the first place, sending serve upon serve blazing across the court as if his life depends on it. 

He doesn’t have the precision that Oikawa has, but where he misses out on accuracy, he makes up in pure, raw power. There’s just something…  _ off _ about his jump serve, considering he can’t pinpoint an area as best as he can, and feels like he can’t hit with all his power without the ball falling out of bounds.

He’s practiced with Oikawa before, learning all of the painstaking steps to his perfect and terrifying serve and even still, it seems like he just can’t replicate the same type of success that Oikawa has. 

As satisfying as a dead on hit on the ball feels, the way the ball just doesn’t spin in that same controlled motion and lands just beyond the white lines is what makes him yell out in frustration and want to punch a damn wall. 

“Damn it!” The ball in his hand gets thrown on the ground, bouncing clear off the ground towards the door, and Iwaizumi has to chase after it with angry steps so that he won’t get scolded for making a mess of their indoor balls. 

It’s just his luck that the stray volleyball happens to get caught by Ushijima, who stands in the doorway like some foreboding statue, and it makes the shorter wing spiker recoil, because how long has he been watching him fail at jump serves?

Just as always though, the taller player is blunt as he holds the ball out to Iwaizumi. “You serve just like Oikawa.” Iwaizumi doesn’t even hold in his scoff and eye roll as he grudgingly accepts the volleyball.

“Of course I do, the stupid idiot taught me how to serve.” Luckily, Oikawa isn’t here, and Iwaizumi is a pretty damn chill guy, so he isn’t bothered as he hears the sounds of Ushijima’s light steps following him as he returns to the court to practice more serves. 

It’s rare that Iwaizumi gets shaken, usually he’s the ever indomitable pillar of Seijoh’s offense, but there’s something so unnerving about knowing that a hated rival is literally staring him down as he practices. If he’s being honest, he’d rather have the other ace stare at him silently from the door like before. 

All he can really do is take a deep breath and ground himself again, letting the white noise of the silent gym flatten out into an absolute silence as he narrows his focus and tosses the ball into the air. The steps are perfect, and the toss is as well. 

By the time he lands on the floor, the ball’s hit the floor with an intimidating intensity, rebounding off of the back wall and ricocheting. It’s an amazing serve, really, and all Hajime can critique is that this kind of serve never appears in a real match.

The feeling is exhilarating, like a cool breeze of the cold air rejuvenating his sweaty skin and burning lungs. 

“You can’t serve like Oikawa,” Ushijima says, voice almost booming in the empty gym.

Finally, Iwaizumi is properly provoked, whipping around to confront the other. “Just before you said I serve just like him, and now you say I can’t serve like him?” His voice is lower than usual, and he’s a little shocked at the low growl that lines his tone. “It’s either one or the other, Ushiwaka.”

Surprisingly, the aggressive tone catches the generally stoic ace a little off guard, to the point where he even rephrases his initial statement. “I mean to say that you aren’t Oikawa, so serving just as he does will not optimize your own abilities.”

“Oh,” the other ace dumbly replies, clearly caught off guard by a genuine compliment coming from the monster ace of Japan’s lips. More often than not, Iwaizumi can only recall biting blunt remarks on the level of talent on his team rather than anything remotely kind. 

If he’s going to get critiqued by his enemy, might as well try for some pointers while he’s at it. “Well do you have any suggestions?”

Clearly, Ushijima is a man of actions, and not words, so Hajime almost has a heart attack when the man walks right up to him with purposeful steps and another volleyball in his hand.  _ How the hell is a guy so large able to move so quickly and quietly? _

The taller ace basically shoves the ball into his hands, expectant. “Your strength is speed and power. Jumping for too long like Oikawa is only a detriment to the amount of power you can serve with.”

Hajime kind of feels like a five year old getting the entire process spelled out to him like this, blankly taking in Ushijima’s words considering he’s a little dazed from just how  _ close _ the other is. Ushijima really is ‘built like a damn tree,’ as Makki and Mattsun would say; all long legs and pure muscle.

“Jump lower, but hit faster, and harder,” Ushijima explains, pointing at the other end of the court, where a ball would land if he hit one. “The speed will catch your opponents off guard and you will be able to get more of your serves in bounds if you don’t jump as high.”

It makes sense, actually, considering Oikawa’s tall ass probably needs the extra time on the down swing for each for his devastating blows to land in bounds, whereas Iwaizumi is already used to spiking and can adjust himself to hit a sharper, more powerful blow with the speed of a quick. 

Before he can even get his legs working again to line up for another serve, Ushijima has quickly snatched the ball from his hands (wasn’t he the one who gave the ball to him in the first place?) and is already backing up from the end line to prepare for a serve. 

“Let me demonstrate for you, if my words weren’t clear enough.” 

And like clock work, Ushijima takes a deep breath before he launches into the air and sends a serve blazing across the court, a quick, accurate shot that nails the back corner, barely in bounds, with an impact that sounds almost like thunder during a storm. 

Once again, Iwaizumi finds himself speechless, mostly in awe, because he can see past his own childish rivalry to see that Ushijima is f _ ucking amazing. _

“I appreciate the compliment, Iwaizumi, but I would also like to see you serve in this style as well.” 

_ Oh. _

Iwaizumi’s always had a hard time not voicing out his thoughts, constantly saying whatever’s on his mind‒ usually insults for his idiotic friends. This time, he’s clearly embarrassed himself to the fullest, mind just a little too hazy from exhaustion to put his filter in place. 

At the very least, Ushijima’s stoic nature keeps him from making any comments about the way he flushes red from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears, a habit from childhood that he hasn’t been able to change. 

He’s not going to look at Ushijima’s stupid face, steeling his nerves once more as he closes his eyes and visualizes the way the other ace served, familiarizing himself with the height of the toss and the way Ushijima locks his eyes on the ball the entire time, intent and determination clear. 

Hajime takes a deep breath and jumps. 

Even if he isn’t reaching his max height, it feels like time is slowed as he glances at the ball in the air before locking his gaze right on the spot where Ushijima’s serve landed. Frankly, he feels like he’s fucking flying before he swings his arm down and  _ hits. _

The serve isn’t just amazing, it’s dead on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can find me on twt @ iwanyoom (feel free to message me aha im shy)


	2. Dinner With the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iwa chan and Ushijima go get dinner, and their teams lose their shit

Iwaizumi’s excitable like a kid when he gets going, shocked eyes and jubilant yells resounding as he jumps with joy and pumps a fist in the air. Hell, he doesn’t even feel tired anymore, mind only focused on the way he’s so much closer to sharpening his own sword of offensive strengths.

Ushijima stands on the sidelines, eyes calculating and analytical, gazing right at Iwaizumi’s burst of celebratory energy. 

“It was a very good serve Iwaizumi,” he acknowledges, and there’s a little twinge of pride in Hajime’s chest, knowing that he’s got Ushijima’s praise. “With more practice, the serve will become more consistent and thus more effective. This will become a useful weapon in no time.”

But even if he praises Aoba Johsai’s ace, Ushijima still blocks Iwaizumi, who eagerly bounds to the cart to grab another ball. It catches Hajime off guard, because Ushijima, as imposing as ever, is apparently the king of sending mixed signals. 

“Aren’t you going to let me practice some more?” The shorter teen gestures at the cart, fingers almost itching for that same exhilarating thrill of a good serve. 

Ushijima is unyielding. “It is six,” he says, stating the obvious. Hajime rolls his eyes in return.

“I can tell, idiot.” If Ushijima is bothered by the slight insult, he says nothing. Iwaizumi only sighs, tilting his head in resignation at Ushijima’s interference. “I need all the practice I can get if I want to beat you in an official match, you know.”

“It is six,” the other repeats, piercing eyes on Iwaizumi. “Dinner will end at six-thirty. The balls need to be picked up and the net needs to be taken down.”

All of the balls scattered across the floor from his serving frenzy seem to taunt them, along with the clock on the wall that continues to run in the silence. 

“There are other times to practice, but it is unwise to skip dinner and only weaken yourself.”

The intention behind his words are clear, and Iwaizumi almost blanches at the thought of acting like Oikawa, forgetting the time and only focusing on getting better. At the very least. Ushijima seems to be just as responsible as Iwaizumi, and the reminder of dinner and cleaning to be done makes the shorter stand up straight and nod in understanding.

It’s clear that the two of them aren’t the most talkative, splitting up to efficiently gather up the balls from the floor so as to not waste any of their precious dinner time. 

The quiet is relaxing, actually. It’s rare that Iwaizumi gets time to just ruminate over his day in silence, considering he’s basically the team mom and dad for his own team of chaotic and unruly children.

If he’s being honest, Hajime even thinks he and Ushijima might get along damn well, because it takes them only five minutes to pack up the balls and store the net in the closet. With his own team, it would take at least double, even with all the regulars at work.

His team are menaces, and the shorter ace cringes at the thought of attempting to clean Shiratorizawa’s stupidly fancy gym with their hyperactive and plebeian hands. At the very least, having the training camp located on Shiratorizawa’s campus means that they do have great facilities; large ones that can comfortably house their teams with little to no effort. 

Dutiful and silent as ever, Ushijima takes the lead as walks them from the gym to across campus, where the dormitories and cafeteria are. Hajime doesn’t even realize just how late it is until he notices the way the sky is pitch black and the air is frosty cold against his warm skin. 

“Fuck it’s cold,” he swears under his breath, speeding up his steps as to match the other’s pace.

Ushijima abruptly stops, halting in his long strides before he turns to stare at Iwaizumi, who has a small drawstring bag thrown over his shoulder as he looks up at the other ace questioningly.

“You do not have a jacket.” And it’s quite obvious that the ace would point that out, considering Hajime’s cheeks are flushed a healthy cherry red and each of his short breaths are visible in the frigid air. “It is very cold tonight, and it is a ten minute walk to the dormitory.”

“Well I didn’t realize that the sun would set so quickly in the winter,” Iwaizumi shrugs, as if he isn’t shivering his ass off in his athletic shorts and short sleeve club t-shirt. “And Oikawa stole my jacket from my bag when everybody left after evening training.”

When his companion says nothing, Hajime deems it appropriate to add on, “He’s an absolute asshole like that, so it’s not even my first time trudging back home cold anyways.”

The thing about Ushijima is that Hajime cannot read the other man for the life of him. Whether it’s on court or simply just standing next to each other, his countenance is absolutely bulletproof, not even dark and intense eyes able to give any hints about what the genius ace could be thinking of at any moment. 

But this time, Hajime can literally see the gears spinning in Ushijima’s mind as his strong eyebrows furrow together in what seems to be deep contemplation; hell, the man looks downright troubled as he seemingly comes up with his reply. 

“Not that I don’t love staring at you, Ushijima, but you  _ did _ say the walk was ten minutes, and even if I’m used to walking in the cold, we should get going before I freeze.” Ushijima comes back to attention at Hajime’s words, fingers flying to unzip his iconic white and purple track jacket.

Before he even knows it, Ushijima has draped the jacket around Hajime’s shoulders and zipped up the jacket, giving a wordless non before turning on his heel and continuing on his way. 

“You can’t just give me your jacket like that!” Iwaizumi has to break out in a little jog to catch up with the devastatingly fast pace of the other’s walk.  _ Is he walking even faster now? _

Ushijiman’s pace is unrelenting, almost refusing to face Hajime again. “As you can see, it is not a problem because I have a long sleeve shirt on,” he calls out, probably assuming that Iwaizumi is dutifully following behind him as they weave through the multitude of buildings on the campus. 

“I can see that, genius,” Hajime remarks, finally catching up with the other, though their pace pretty much barely counts as a walk and borders on a jog. “But you’ve already done a lot for me today, and I can barely process that fact that we’re being so civil like this.”

“I have no grudges against you or your team,” the taller man says as the large cafeteria building just gets in their field of vision. “And unlike what Oikawa would say, I have respect for my rivals, especially wing spikers like myself.”

“Really?” Iwaizumi jokes, tone quite light hearted. “Kageyama texted me yesterday about how you called my entire team weak one time.” 

Just as the pair of them make it to the large glass doors of the cafeteria, Ushijima freezes, hand frozen on the metal handle of the door. 

“I have changed my opinions on your team since then,” he replies, before pulling on the handle and briskly striding right in, leaving Hajime in a confused stupor before he finally gets his bearings and stumbles inside.

And even if he’s only eaten in the cafeteria just once (for lunch that noon), Iwaizumi can’t help but marvel at the sheer size of the building.  _ Private school kids really do have it all, don’t they? _ He jokes in his mind, chuckling out loud as he sees the way Ushijima waits at the end of the hallway so that they can enter the main dining area together. 

The massive clock hung just above Ushijima’s head says it’s five minutes until dinner ends, which gets Hajime a little worried because he’s always been a big eater. 

“Are we even going to be able to eat,” he asks, “there’s only five minutes left.” Hajime easily follows behind Ushijima as he enters the dining area and passes by the multitude of tables, all filled by clusters of athletes who amicably talk over their dinners.

“Five minutes is more than enough time to grab food,” Ushijima replies, gesturing to the entire row of trays of food ready for the taking. “Just take as much as you want, and if you still feel hungry, I can convince the staff to leave some food for later.”

Hajime easily shut up in favor of putting all of his attention to piling his plate up with his favorites. Luckily, everybody seems to have steered clear of tofu in favor of the chicken, but Iwaizumi has no qualms with clearing out the rest of the tray of fried tofu, adding along veggies and a little bit of fruit on the side as well. 

In no time, he finds himself sat face to face with Ushijima at one of the empty tables, a little too close for comfort to a squad of Shiratorizawa regulars, but Iwaizumi’s got a one track mind when he’s hungry.

“Ushijima,” Hajime calls out between a bite of his rice, “I just wanna say thanks for helping me out with my serves today.” 

The other offers a curt nod, taking a moment to finish his soup before answering. “I too, enjoyed today. If you would like to practice more, I practice alone after my morning run at five-thirty.”

“Of course you’re an early riser,” Hajime laughs, “And it just so happens to be that I am as well, so I’ll take you up on that offer.” The rest of Seijoh are a lot of late risers, especially Kunimi, who would probably indefinitely sleep if given the opportunity.

Iwaizumi’s kind of giddy, to be honest, because it’s so rare to find someone that’s actually on the same wavelength as him. Ushijima is like a breath of fresh air, a stark difference from the absolute chaos of their own teams. 

“Could I join you on your run, too?” He asks, “I was going to run in the mornings anyways but I’m interested in what kind of route you would do here!” Sure, there might be stars in his eyes, but as a fitness enthusiast, Hajime really can’t pass up his chance on gaining some critical training information.

Ushijima seems very pleased at the offer, giving a stern but amicable reply. “If you are confident in keeping up with me, I see no problem with you joining me.”

“I’m pretty confident that I can keep up,” Hajime laughs, giving a little smile.

It’s a little weird to be having such calm conversation when he can literally feel the eyes of both of their teams leering at them from where they sit. 

After so many years dealing with his childhood best friend, Hajime can say he’s gained what some can call, an ‘Oikawa sense.’ He’s pretty sure Oikawa is losing his shit at the table where he spotted the third years sitting earlier, because his phone won’t stop lighting up with an insane amount of notifications from their group chat. 

And for a man so intimidating and observant‒  _ at volleyball, at least‒  _ Ushijima is not the slightest bit perturbed by the way his weird ass team all either stare at their ace or glare at Iwaizumi. Hajime swears the red-haired middle blocker is eyeing him in some weird type of way. 

“Which room have you been assigned to?” Ushijima asks, breaking their comfortable silence as it becomes clear that they’ve both finished their meals. 

Hajime hums, searching his mind for whatever room Oikawa told him they were in. “I’m in C-12? With Oikawa, because the coaches think that making anyone else room with that idiot is a punishment.” He sighs, thinking about having to deal with Oikawa’s late night antics again later. “Everybody else is in the B block though.”

“I believe there was an issue with the heating system in one of the B block rooms.” Hajime sagely nods along with Ushijima’s comment in understanding. “I am quite glad to know that you will be in the room across from me.”

That comes as a surprise to Iwaizumi, though he’s also pretty happy about the circumstances, considering he won’t have to walk far to meet up with Ushijima tomorrow morning for their run and practice. 

And when Hajime’s phone lights up with a call from Oikawa, he lets it ring, snickering as he hears the captain swear from somewhere in the room, followed by the sound of a phone being thrown at someone, probably Makki judging from the indignant yell that follows. 

“Oikawa seems very lively today,” Ushijima comments as he witnesses the entire situation. From where the taller teen sits, Iwaizumi can only guess that he has a full view of Sejioh’s team. 

Hajime feels a little urge to turn his head and taunt his teammates, but he doesn’t want to give Oikawa the satisfaction of knowing he’s even paying attention. “He’s always annoying, and I’ve dealt with it all my life, so the best way to deal with it is by ignoring the idiot.”

  
  
What can Hajime say? As much as Oikawa annoys him, he always gets the pleasure of throwing that idiot's antics right back into his face.  
  
  
  


**_idiotkawa_ **

_ iwa chan care to explain why you’re having dinner with the devil?? _

_ iwa chan???? _

_ iwa chaaaaaaaaaan _

_ IWA CHAN !!!! _

_ IWA CHAN YOU ARE MORALLY OBLIGATED AS MY BEST FRIEND TO ANSWER MY TEXTS!!! _

_ I CAN SEE YOUR PHONE SCREEN LIGHT UP DONT IGNORE ME _

_ … youre dead to me hajime ( ͒˃̩̩⌂˂̩̩ ͒) _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip oikawa  
> hope you enjoyed this little snippet of good boys being good boys!!
> 
> please do comment!!


	3. An Intervention: Seijoh Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just Seijoh madness aha + oblivious iwa chan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ohoh quick update amirite! I have an exam coming up in the next week so I just had to get this idea out before I lock down and study :(((

“Iwa chan, we need to talk.”

The sight that Hajime is greeted with as he enters his room for the camp is nothing short of absolutely terrifying. 

Oikawa sits on the bottom bunk, elbows propped on his knees where hands are clasped together like some mafia boss awaiting his arrival. His face is serious, no hint of a smile on his face at all, which makes Hajime feel quite unnerved.

He knows his best friend, and he can just tell that Oikawa’s face means nothing but trouble for him. Beside him are Yahaba and Makki, who look just as grim as their captain as they sit on his left and right respectively. 

Across from the bunk is the desk, where Mattsun has taken the chair and spun it around so that he can face the door, where Hajime stands awkwardly. Truth be told, he’s never seen his team this stoic, considering even during heated matches, they still keep up a competitive, but playful energy. 

It really does look like some shitty encounter with an underground boss, and Hajime is the little stray that they’ve dragged in to interrogate for some heinous reason. But there’s no way in hell that he’s going to deal with this shit right now, so he decides for a strategic retreat; maybe Ushijima’s room across the hall would be enough to deter his weird ass teammates. 

“I’m just gonna go,” Hajime quickly quips, before turning on his heel and grabbing for the door handle, only to be met by a few unwavering clicks. “What the fuck?” 

Another jiggle at the handle is to no avail. The door doesn’t even budge, and from what Hajime can see, it isn’t even locked. 

“You can’t hide from this Iwa chan,” Oikawa darkly mutters. “I’ve got Kyouken and Kindaichi holding the door from outside.”

“I’m not hiding from anything!” He yells back in response, “Also, holding the door? Are you guys trying to hold me hostage or something? Why are you guys being so weird today?”

Makki easily interrupts, bringing up a finger to shush him. “Hey, Kunimi’s asleep in your bed right now, keep it down.” And indeed there’s a lump on the top bunk, which is presumably his lazy underclassman, having a nice nap at the late hour of eight in the evening.

“I’m not being weird! You are!” Oikawa exclaims as he stands up, now pouting with his hands on his hips as he glares at Iwaizumi accusingly. “Look at yourself Iwa chan! First you ditch us to go eat dinner with Ushiwaka chan, then you don’t even answer our texts? It’s like I don’t even know you anymore!”

Lo and behold, it’s only then that Hajime realizes that he’s still wearing Ushijima’s jacket, covered in the regal purple and white of their enemy school. If he’s being honest, it’s a damn nice jacket, thin but also really warm when it needs to be. 

But it also makes him realize that he _has_ been a lot less attentive of Oikawa like he usually is, though he’d rather die than admit that even when they were apart, his stupid best friend still came up in his mind and conversations with Ushijima multiple times. 

“Look,” He starts, running a bashful hand through his hair. “I didn’t mean to blow you guys off like that. It’s just that Ushijima helped me out today with my serves and I guess he’s pretty chill too?” 

His tone is clearly regretful, but the hopeful tilt at the end makes the entire room stare him down with shocked eyes. 

“He what!?” Oikawa squawks, “That Ushiwaka! He’s totally trying to do something weird, right Mattsun?” 

“Are we just ignoring the fact that he was _helping_ me at volleyball?” Nobody even acknowledges him, and instead, Mattsun’s eyes gain that mischievous glint that Hajime’s all too used to.

“Oh yeah, he’s definitely trying to do something weird, probably even despicable too, if it’s on Shiratorizawa grounds too.” 

Just from the way Makki’s grin widens at Mattsun’s statement, Iwaizumi just _knows_ that they’re feeding into Oikawa’s chaos. “Mattsun’s right, Iwaizumi is the perfect target for Ushiwaka’s heinous plans. He’s just too nice and perfect, right Oikawa?”

Sometimes, it really feels like a one sided argument when Oikawa gets going, and Iwaizumi already feels the resignation boiling up within him. “Are you really going to trust _these_ dumbasses? Look, I know he’s our rival, but like I said, he’s _chill._ ”

Oikawa melodramatically fake-sobs into his hands, completely ignoring his childhood friend. “I should have seen this coming,” he wails, “First he tries to recruit me, now he’s moved on to my only weakness, Iwa chan!” 

The captain turns to face Yahaba, face solemn. “We have to protect our dear Iwa chan no matter the cost, do you understand, Yahaba chan?” 

Iwaizumi trusts Yahaba to be, in some sense, a voice of reason, considering he’s cool, calm and rational, and even the third year’s pick as the next captain. Surely _he_ could see the complete irrationalities in Oikawa’s accusations.

“Of course senpai!” Yahaba yells out, “We won’t let them take Iwaizumi senpai away like that!” eyes just as serious as Oikawa’s, and it’s then that Iwaizumi realizes that of course, Yahaba’s always been a mini-Oikawa in the making. 

Makki and Mattsun don’t even try to stifle their laughter at Yahaba’s blazing sentiment, which is even more infuriating, because they’ve clearly chosen chaos over Hajime’s well being. 

And then comes the new wave of melodramatics from Oikawa: misguided understanding. 

“Iwa chan, I know it’s hard for you to not be so gullible, especially when a tall and strong man like Ushiwaka comes to sweep you off your feet with promises of extra volleyball training and romance drama moves like giving you in his jacket, but he is the _enemy!_ ”

Oikawa’s so damn lucky he’s their captain, and that Iwaizumi’s honorable enough to remember that he’s promised Oikawa’s mother that he would keep her stupid son out of trouble during the week long camp.

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this?” Hajime says, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “He didn’t even say any of the usual ‘you should have come to Shiratorizawa’ shit and deadass just practiced with me.”

Oikawa’s eyes narrow within seconds, clearly still suspicious as he literally drags everybody excluding Iwaizumi into a little team huddle, with hushed whispering and all. 

Yahaba nods so seriously at whatever the hell the third years are saying, most likely poisoning his ears with more Oikawa branded delusion, and Makki and Mattsun still look like they’re scheming, which is only typical at this point. 

Kunimi sleeps soundly on Hajime’s bed. _Oh to be him_ , Iwaizumi ruefully thinks. Once again, Hajime closes his eyes in irritation, wondering why he chooses to deal with all of this buffoonery. 

“The council has spoken!” Makki proclaims as their team huddle breaks up and everybody turns to face Hajime once more. 

Mattsun walks up to Iwaizumi, face deceptively grim. “You need to give Ushiwaka his jacket back in order to prove your loyalty to the team.”

“Okay?” Hajime replies, “He’s just across the hall. I’ll go now.” But before he can even reach the door handle, Oikawa’s already grabbing his wrist, almost seething. 

“He’s just across the hall? What kind of setup is this?” 

Yahaba chimes in, only making Oikawa’s mood worse. “It’s so suspicious that the only people from our school in this block are you two, and you just happen to be across from Ushiwaka’s dorm!”

Then there’s three lousy knocks on the door, presumably from Kyoutani from the sheer aggressiveness. Oikawa almost teleports past Iwaizumi, knocking another three knocks back so that the door opens, only to be faced with a bewildered Kindaichi, a disgruntled Kyoutani, and Ushijima. 

“What’s going on Kyouken chan?” Oikawa says in that sugary sweet voice of his, reserved for the tall ace that towers behind their underclassmen. “Why would Ushiwaka chan grace us with his presence right now?”

Kyoutani, offers only a gruff noise in response, typical, considering he never really answers Oikawa properly anyways. So Ushijima, with his stoic eyes, speaks for himself instead. 

“I planned on talking with Iwaizumi, but it seems that he is quite… busy at the moment.” There’s basically sparks flying between the two captains, judging from Oikawa’s stance at the door, clearly blocking Ushijima from Iwaizumi. 

“You’re right, Ushiwaka, he _is_ super busy! Luckily, I’m free to talk with you so let’s have a fun chat!” The captain practically shoves the two underclassmen into the room before slamming the door closed. 

Now the entire room is silent, Yahaba and Kyoutani having some weird non-verbal communication as they make faces at each other. Kindaichi just stands there awkwardly, probably freaking out about the captain brawl that’s probably happening outside.

Makki and Mattsun just throw their hands around Hajime’s shoulders and drag him onto the bottom bunk, effectively trapping him between them as they whip out their phones to torture him with memes.

Hajime can only sigh and accept his fate, far too tired to really struggle against his friends. But there’s still one question on his mind though:

“Uh, so where’s Watari?”

The vice captain can feel nothing but worry when nobody in the room answers him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment!!
> 
> \+ 10000 points if anyone can guess what watari is doing & I hope to be back soon for the Shiratorizawa intervention & Ushioi hallway fight (its not a fist fight tho so calm down lol) in the next chapter!! Happy holidays!!


	4. An Intervention: Shiratorizawa Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ushijima explains his woes, and Tendou does the translating.

Ushijima’s night goes a little something like this: he makes a final round to the gym, like the responsible captain that he is, to make sure that all of the equipment has been put away and to check for anyone that may be lurking for some extra practice after hours. 

Occasionally he’s found Goshiki and Shirabu attempting to hone their skills, with the reasoning that as underclassmen, they want to reach the same level as their teammates and prove their worth. All reasonable motives, but without permission from the coach to stay after, Ushijima constantly needs to make sure that order is kept.

The familiar glow of the main gym from the windows is a telltale sign that tonight he’ll have to give his juniors the reminder  _ again _ that practicing after hours in the gym isn’t allowed. 

He doesn’t expect to see a member of Seijoh, especially Iwaizumi in particular. It does make sense though, considering the other team was never explicitly banned from practicing after hours by their own coach anyways. 

Admittedly, it’s interesting to watch a player practice. When watching Iwaizumi serve Ushijima can almost visualize Oikawa’s same form, the ghost of his technique mirrored in his best friend’s steps. The only thing that really differs between their serves is in the way Iwaizumi hits.

It’s the sharp snap of his arm downwards and the way strong arms almost spike the ball over the net that piques Ushijima’s interest. It’s the slight halo that comes from the shine of the sweat glistening over his forehead. 

Alone, Iwaizumi has the intensity of a tiger, and it’s almost rare to witness the way the shorter ace sinks deep into his flow when he isn’t distracted by his teammates. The floor is littered with stray volleyballs, alluding to just how long he’s been practicing.

Ushijima feels an inexplicable tug in his chest, and before he knows it, he’s already offering to teach Iwaizumi how to serve. Tendou has always mentioned to him the importance of making friends anyways, he reasons with himself in his mind. 

In some ways, Iwaizumi reminds him of a star; bright, wonder filled eyes and an unwavering determination that radiates from him. So stepping into the light and being along with the other ace gives him a welcome change of pace and washes his more than average night into something memorable.

He almost messes it up, giving not enough context in his answer and almost has a taste of the fiery and blunt energy that Iwaizumi has with his teammates, but once he explains himself, Iwaizumi lets it go just as easily as he gets provoked.

And then Iwaizumi has Ushijima reeling with just one phrase.

_ “Ushijima, you’re fucking amazing.”  _

The words seem to unconsciously leave Iwaizumi’s lips and frankly end up doing more damage to Ushijima than he realizes. It’s always been a little bit hard for him to express his emotions, so luckily, Iwaizumi doesn’t notice that anything’s amiss.

There’s a heat that rises up his neck and up to his ears as he turns away and prompts the shorter ace to practice the serve himself, silently glad that Iwaizumi himself is too embarrassed from his slip up to even look at him right now.

He’s used to praise as a rising star in volleyball and with years of having people sending compliments his way, Ushijima would assume that he’d be numb to such words, but it seems as if Iwaizumi is the exception.

  
  
  
  


“Wakatoshi-kun,” Tendou drawls, “It seems like you really like Seijoh’s ace, don’t you?” The middle blocker’s gaze is inquisitive, more so amused at the way the rest of the team seems perplexed after only a little bit of his explanation of the past few hours. 

All Ushijima can really do is furrow his brows, troubled, and ask for clarification. “It is too early for me to tell, Satori. I have only known Iwaizumi for less than a day.” And he speaks the truth, considering though he’s had a semi-rivalry with the Seijoh duo, today is the first time Ushijima has actually talked to Iwaizumi normally.

“You don’t have to know somebody for all their life to have a crush on them, you know,” Goshiki says. The ace is frankly shocked that Goshiki could offer solid advice when it comes to romance. “Love at first sight exists, Senpai.”

From across the room, Shirabu rolls his eyes. “Love at first sight my ass. He’s known Iwaizumi since middle school, dumbass.” 

That’s the thing with feelings. Ushijima can barely express them in the way he wants, much less figure out what he wants to feel in the first place. Why can’t it all be as simple as volleyball?

“Well, what do you think of him?” Semi asks, and the question actually makes Ushijima pause and ruminate over his options. 

Iwaizumi, who he’s come to learn, is a lot like himself. They have the same work ethic and unwavering thirst to be the best, along with similar positions and habits. They both wake up early in the mornings to run and are for the most part, the more logical members of their respective teams.

And that’s all he can really conclude about the other at the moment, aside from the fact that the mere thought of their plans tomorrow makes him eager as he has another opportunity to interact with Iwaizumi once more.

A few hours is enough for Ushijima to come to terms with the fact that even if he doesn’t know about how he feels about Iwaizumi, the little warmth in his chest at the other ace’s reactions at the very least means that he feels  _ something _ . 

“I…” He trails off, low voice coming to a stop as he realizes that all of his thoughts point to one direction. It’s a little stifling, dealing with the unknown like this, which makes his fingers clench at his sides irritatingly, before they soften as the thought of Iwaizumi crosses his mind and unconsciously relaxes him.

“I want to know more about Iwaizumi.”

From across the room, Reon whistles, seemingly impressed. “Oh he’s got it  _ bad _ .” And in the low chatter of his teammates, comes Satori, who translates his true feelings into words for both Ushijima and the team to hear.

“It’s official everybody,” he swoons, placing a dramatic hand over his heart as he emulates the cooing of a proud parent. “Our dear Wakatoshi-kun has finally fallen in love after all these years!” 

Reon and Semi raise their hands to their faces to wipe fake tears from the corners of their eyes, dramatic. The rest of the starters who are in the cramped dorm room also join in on the ruse. 

Their cheers and words, however, fall upon deaf ears. 

_ Love? _

Frankly, Wakatoshi doesn’t understand where Satori is able to conclude that he’s in love from just one conversation, and it perplexes himself even more to know that in the events that Satori is indeed right about his feelings (he usually is), he has no idea how to approach the situation at all. 

Satori’s hands on his shoulders jolt him from the thoughts swirling in his mind, back to the reality where all eyes are on him once more.

“Worried?” Is all he says at Ushijima’s blank face, and once again, Satori proves to be a tried and true Wakatoshi translator as it only takes one look at one word to be able to decipher the stormy expression and troubled eyes.

“I do not know how to approach this situation,” he offers, hoping for any sort of advice his friends could offer him at the moment. “I do not want to make a mistake when the relationship between Iwaizumi and I is only beginning.”

“Well there’s barely any relationship at this point, so you need to go build up that relationship by talking to Iwaizumi. Give him the good old Wakatoshi charm and go get your man!” 

The hands that formerly rested on his shoulders now spin him around one hundred and eighty degrees before almost shoving him at the door. Wakatoshi easily stops himself, feet resolutely sticking in their place on the floor where he stands, motionless.

He stares at Satori. “I need to build up my relationship with Iwaizumi and get to know him more.”

Satori nods back, reaffirming his statement with hopeful eyes.

“And you recommend that I go and talk to Iwaizumi right now,” Wakatoshi asks in response, still a little bit unsure about his teammate’s advice. 

There’s nothing but a collective nod, along with sparkling and supportive eyes from Goshiki in return. Then again, he’s never been in love anyways, so perhaps listening to the team would yield actual results; he trusts them unconditionally with things like this.

Reon smiles, approaching the two of them before clapping Tendou over the back and throwing an arm around the lanky blocker’s shoulders. Satori cringes at the impact. “When has this idiot ever been wrong about your problems?”

Wakatoshi then understands, in that moment, that indeed, Satori is rarely wrong when it comes to most things anyways, and that he might as well act now.

“Then I will put your advice to use and go ‘get my man’.”

Stoic as ever, he gives a solemn nod to his team before he promptly turns around to head for the door, ignoring the way his hands have that telltale slight tremble of excitement that he usually experiences before a particularly challenging volleyball game. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rip no ushioi confrontation bc that was taking me too long to write and I just needed to get something out before my finals :(
> 
> anyways sorry for taking so long to update and i hope that this update was a little good
> 
> please do comment if you enjoyed & you can find me @iwanyoom on twt!

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on twt @ iwanyoom (feel free to message me aha im shy)


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